Ship It(55)

I don’t think Tess has breathed in a full minute, so I say, “I’m Forest Reed. If I look familiar, it’s okay, that’s normal. It’s because I’m a television actor.” And I’m relieved to find she laughs at that.

“I know who you are,” she assures me.

“Oh, good. Demon Heart fan?”

“She’s a huge fan,” Claire says. Tess shoots her a look. “Tess is an amazing artist; she does this fanart that’d blow you away.”

Is it pictures of me kissing Rico? I don’t want to see it, but at the same time I am overcome with curiosity.

“Claire—” Tess says sharply.

“What? I’m not showing him, I’m just saying. You’re a good artist.”

There’s something going on between these two—a tension that I can’t quite put my finger on. I wonder what happened last night. Did they hook up? Did they not?

“I draw other things, too,” Tess says to Claire, “not just fanart.”

“That’s awesome,” I say, and watch Claire for clues, but she’s giving me nothing. “So what’s up, Tess? Am I gonna see you in Seattle?”

“Yeah,” Tess says. “Well, I mean, I’ll see you. You’ll have to look pretty hard at the audience if you’re gonna see me.” She laughs nervously. “I’m just praying that my old shit-bucket makes it home.” She points across the parking lot, where an ancient red Toyota Tercel is parked. Yikes. It reminds me of my first shitty teenage pickup truck. I loved that terrible pile of rust, but I wouldn’t want to take it cross-country.

“That’s a gorgeous set of wheels.”

She smiles shyly. “Yeah, I should probably get rid of it, but I can’t really afford to. Besides, my ex-girlfriend gave it to me and she lost the title, so at this point it’s practically stolen.”

“Oh!” I say, acting surprised. For I am a professional actor. “Are you gay?” Claire rolls her eyes, because of course I’ve assumed Tess is gay, like I assume Claire is…something. But this is the perfect opportunity to find out more about these two, and I’m dying to know what the deal is here.

“No, I’m not gay,” Tess says. “I’m queer.”

I look at Claire, who keeps her eyes firmly on the glossy marble wall behind me.

“What’s that mean?” I ask, because one of us has to.

“Well, to be specific, I’m a homoromantic pansexual,” Tess says matter-of-factly.

“So you’re attracted to cookware?” I ask.

“Pansexual is when you’re attracted to all genders.”

“So you’re bisexual?” I ask, suddenly far more confused than I thought I would be for this conversation.

“Well, bi means two, but it’s similar,” Tess says, whatever nervousness she may have been feeling toward me somehow dissipating.

“Wait, how many genders are there?” I ask, and then I laugh—I can’t help it. This is the weirdest conversation to have at seven a.m. in a hotel lobby, with other guests passing by us on all sides.

“Gender is a spectrum, Forest,” Tess says, and I suddenly feel bad for laughing; this is really serious to her. I glance at Claire again, and she is definitely not engaging in this conversation. I look around the lobby to make sure there aren’t any other fans listening in to our conversation, but the coast is clear.

“So when you say homo…” I prompt.

“Homoromantic. It means that even though I feel sexual attraction toward all genders, I only feel romantic feelings for women.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Like, I’ll have sex with whoever, but I’m really only ever gonna marry a lady. I know, it’s complicated. You can understand why I usually just say queer.” She laughs.

“Yeah. Totally.”

“People think sexuality is like a light switch: you’re either gay or you’re straight. It’s not. It’s not even a dimmer switch. Sexuality’s more like… a Tesla Coil. Bzzzzz.” She gestures electricity everywhere. “It’s up to you to figure yourself out. I just happened to figure it out early. Claire’s still working on it. But I think maybe we made a little progress on that front on our date last night,” Tess says, playfully elbowing Claire.

“Stop it,” Claire whispers to Tess.

“What?” Tess says.

“Stop trying to impress him,” Claire hisses, and I suddenly feel very awkward standing here.

“I wasn’t.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m fine. Hey, I think I should get going.”

“Yeah, me too,” Claire says, reaching for her suitcase.

“You’re not going to ride with me?” Tess asks.

Claire hesitates. “I think I’m going to take the bus.” She shoulders her backpack.

Tess frowns but plays it cool. “Oh. Okay, that’s fine.”

“Sorry. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay. Well, um, text me when you get there.”

“Yeah,” Claire says. Tess goes for a hug at the same time that Claire turns away and Tess’s arms fall to her sides. It’s awkward and horrible to watch, and I feel like I should do something, but I barely know these people, and what the hell would I do anyway?